The Moments That Define Us
by Out-Grown
Summary: A collection of short stories describing numerous scenes between Katie Bell and Oliver Wood. Katie POV.
1. Sight

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters  
**Authors note: **I hope you enjoy these short pieces I've composed about Katie and Oliver. I've got them all planned out, there will be seven in total ... So _enjoy_, and _REVIEW_ please.

**A Series of Firsts**

_First Sight_

Across the pitch, I saw him walking with a friend. I stopped, stumbling over my steps, almost tripping over my broom.

I'm at tryouts for the Griffindor Quidditch team; I know vaguely of Oliver, he was the keeper for the team last year, simply put he's bloody amazing.

I've never had any difficulties with him before though; I've never had to meet him in person.

Have you ever felt your stomach wiggle around like a fish out of water, lose all of your process of thought, just because you've caught the eye of a certain guy?

Well, then you might know half of what I'm feeling, watching his tall fifteen year old figure approach me.

It's as if I've just caught a glimpse of something that I've been searching for, something that I've been missing my whole life, turns out that something was Oliver.

As he walks away from the try-outs, after having chosen me, _Katie Bell_, to play chaser for his team, I sigh.

His image clouds my mind, but I can finally see clearly.


	2. Sound

A Series of Firsts

_First Sound_

Year 3. Winter._  
_

His voice was deep, clear, and resounded throughout the change room, pure above the rest of our team's chatter. Even Fred and George stop cracking jokes when he speaks; this is an important game. He tells us about how we can beat this team, and the conviction in his voice makes me truly believe him.

"We have an excellent team, and we've trained harder than ever this year." He tells us confidently. "Just play you're hardest, and don't goof around" he looks pointedly at Fred and George, "and we'll do fine."

"Yes captain" Fred and George intone monotonously, I wish they would just let him speak. No matter how funny the twins could be, his voice was much nicer and calming for me. I get to listen to it before every game, listen to the passion in it. I imagine him talking to me this way, about me this way.

I try to shake this thought from my mind as he continues his pep talk, he finishes with a defining "We can do this team!", which sounds delicious in his Scottish brogue.

We cry a final cheer, and get ready to walk onto the field, to greet the cheering crowd.

The doors open and the sound of the crowd ambushes our ears, I can hardly hear it though. Oliver is walking behind me, and he whispers softly into my ear before he passes me to enter the pitch.

"You'll be great."

His voice soothes my nerves, and I can't help but smile. I know that these words of encouragement are meant for me alone.

I follow him onto the pitch, and listen to the screams of our fans, but I don't hear them.

I can only hear him, and his soft words of comfort echoing in my ears.

* * *

Yes, all the stories are going to be this short. If you want longer ones, you can check out my other work.  
The series of firsts title does not seem to apply to my story, can anybody suggest a new title? I'm having trouble coming up with one. Thanks if you do!

-Nathpollen


	3. Scent

**The Moments That Define Us**

_Smell_

Before the quidditch season even starts I see Oliver sitting in the common room, loose papers surrounding him. Knowing him, they're quidditch plays.

I can't help but approach him and sit down beside him on the couch. I hate memorizing plays, so maybe I'll be able to convince him to toss away several of these.

"Hey Kates," Oliver says acknowledging my presence.

I sit down, and the couch sighs, absorbing my weight.

"We're going to win this year." he tells me shuffling through his papers, "I can feel it."

I can't help but laugh, "sure we will." I tell him, because it's what we always do. As a team we have to support Oliver's dream, and ignore the fact that he's been saying this since the first year he was captain.

We haven't won the cup yet.

Don't get me wrong, I really hope that we'll win, but I'm not the quidditch obsessed freak that our dear captain is, and thank merlin for that, we only need one quidditch dictator on the team.

I can feel him roll his eyes at my remark, but he keeps sifting through the papers until he pulls out a folder.

"Found it!" he exclaims, turning to me with a grin plastered to his face.

"Ah yes," I answer sarcastically, "The holy folder. You've found it at last, with this we'll finally be able to win the house cup."

"Very funny" he says, nudging me slightly with his shoulder. I ignore the shivers traveling down my spine, and make sure I pay attention to what he's saying, "I've decided to get organized this year, and put all of my plays somewhere."

I raise my eyebrows skeptically, it's a well known fact that Oliver is a mess, he loses everything, he could give that Neville kid a run for his galleons.

"I'm trying! Give me some credit here." he pleads jokingly as he sorts through his mess of plays.

"Fine. I might as well help you sort through-" I start, but he immediately interrupts me.

"I'm not throwing away any of our plays if that's what you're getting at. But, if you want to help, I won't disagree."

He smiles at me, then being the captain that he is orders, "now grab those plays and categorize them alphabetically."

I choose not to reply and get the job done, because I've officially been hired as his helper and there's no getting out of this one.

XXX

After a dozen minutes of alphabetizing plays I zone out, bored of sifting through piles of stuff that Oliver plans to make all of us chasers memorize. It's his voice that brings me back from my lazy daydream, which consisted of the two of us holding hands while sitting on top of the quidditch hoops.

"Katie, hand me the raptor play if you aren't going to help me." He tells me, his captain voice in full use.

I eye him, as if considering his request, then close my eyes again.

"Well then, I'll have to do this myself" He huffs jokingly.

I hear him sigh and then feel his weight pressing against my hip.

I lurch up unnecessarily, because shock has taken over. He's riffling through papers on my side of the table, evidently searching for his play. He's leaning against me slightly to get the plays and I immediately leaned back, to where I had initially been in order to give him more room to search.

I'm too late though, because his smell has already hit me. The most beautiful scent is rolling off of him in waves, engulfing my senses with a euphoric feeling, similar to when I smell freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

I would compare the scent of Oliver Wood to bottled up sunshine. He smells warm and beautiful and musky and of everything wonderful that I could ever imagine mixed, of course, with the fresh scent of the quidditch pitch.

While I'm observing the wonderful scent of my dear captain, Oliver snatches up a piece of paper, a grin forming on his face. He lifts his weight from my side and faces me triumphantly, his childish grin looking great on his seventeen year old face.

"See, I didn't need your help." He declares, proud to have proved himself right.

His smug expression is adorable, and I would normally reply with a sarcastic comment, but I've somehow found myself at a loss for words. I'm still replaying him leaning over me in my head, and the way he smelled still lingers in my mind.

He doesn't seem to notice, and continues with his work, and I watch him for the rest of the night, praying to merlin for him to reach over me again.

* * *

Well, this took a while.

Hello to anybody that's reading this.  
There are 4 chapter left, and I have one typed out, so it will be posted VERY soon.  
In the meantime, PLEASE review.

Merci.


	4. Touch

**The Moments That Define Us**

_First Touch_

We won many games throughout Oliver's time as captain. We hadn't won the cup, but we'd come close, and he felt like we could really do it this year. He believed in us.

After winning a particularly difficult game we came back inside to find McGonagall waiting for us in the change rooms.  
"Ms. Bell, may I have a word with you." She asks, followed by over dramatic 'oohing' on the part of the twins.  
I nod, and follow her to a secluded corner, and she precedes "Congratulations on the win, Ms. Bell, you played excellently."  
"Thanks" I answer modestly.

"However, I feel that you're strenuous quidditch regime is getting in the way of your studies." Her voice is stern, and I cringe inwardly.

"…Does that mean I can't play quidditch anymore?" My voice is small, and over it I hear the shocked voices of my teammates, who've obviously been listening in.

"No, I just ask you to find a tutor for my class. You have an essay and a test in transfiguration in the next two weeks, if you achieve an E in both of these I will be satisfied and you can participate in the next game."

"I need a tutor?!" I ask astonished.

"Yes, Ms. Bell, that's the idea." McGonagall answers sighing, "I expect some drastic improvement in your grades."  
Then she turned on her heel and left without another word.

"We'll help you!!" I hear two male voices shout at the exact same time. I roll my eyes at Fred and George, who are running towards me with wide demented grins on their freckled faces.

They jump on me, squeezing me so tight with their bear hugs that I am incapable of breathing. They laugh while cooing "aww…ickle-Katie can't pass Minnie's class? Does the wittle-girl need some help?" I laugh with them, ignoring the sick feeling in my stomach.

"This isn't a laughing matter!" I hear Oliver's voice and jump a mile away from the twins. They laugh some more.

"Does anyone here honestly want to volunteer to help Katie in transfiguration?" His looming voice immediately sobers everyone up, smiles wiped from our faces.

"I've barely got an E" Alicia offers.

"I'm already tutoring some kids," Angelina says apologetically. "I don't have time, sorry Kates."

"What abot Oliver?" Fred suggests, "Aren't you doing a newt in transfiguration? You're one of McGonagall's top students!"

Oliver goes slightly red, but mulls over the thought of tutoring me. My heart leaps at the idea, but I keep it to myself. He's still three years older than I am, and definitely not interested in me romantically.

"Okay. I'll see what I can do, meet me in the library at 8 tonight." He finally decides, then throws his towel over his shoulder and heads to the guys showers.

I smile absently as he turns away, imagining the late nights studying with him by candlelight, how he'll suddenly realize that I'm the only girl for him...  
"Oy, Bell!" Fred's voice lurches me out of my daydream, "have fun tonight." And he _winks_ at me before leaving. Does he know something that I don't?

XX

That night I learn a hell of a lot with Oliver. From across the table he explains transfiguration theories to me, and for some unknown reason they make perfect sense.

It might be the Scottish accent that does it.

I finish up the essay that's due in record time, and he works on something he has to do for charms, staying with me to make sure I don't get confused.

Then, he helps me with the actual practice. He demonstrates the spell to me a couple times, turning the wooden chair into a cushion and back again, but every time I try to copy him the chair just becomes kind of squishy.

He holds back his smiles, and tries to help but it doesn't work. Finally, after about half an hour of me constantly failing he comes behind me, a puts a hand on my hip. I'm startled, and briefly wonder if he's making an advance.

His voice clarifies things as he tells me calmly, "Hold still," and puts his hand around my wand hand pointing my wand towards the chair I've been trying to transfigure.

How can't he feel the _t__housand electric volts_ running through my system from his very touch?

My heart beats erratically, as I let his hand guide me in the motion of the spell, and I follow his instructions about uttering the incantation.

All I can feel is his hand against my own, his body, pressed ever so slightly against my back and his palm, flat against my hip.

I am engulfed; my senses in overdrive, his smell, his voice, and his unprecedented beauty alleviate me from the normalcy of life.

I hardly notice myself turning the chair into the perfect cushion, until he turns me around and strangles me with a hug.

I don't really need to breathe though; his arms around my body are life enough for me.

* * *

To everybody who's story alerting this. Thanks so much, and also I hope you enjoy this quick update. It's extremely unusual for me, I must be going crazy..  
Also, if you haven't noticed, the chapters get considerably longer after the second one. They'll probably be this length from now on.  
I changed the title of the story. I have to say I like this one a lot better!

Anyways, **PLEASE **review. I would really like to know what you think about this!

Next chapter: _a kiss_


	5. Kiss

**The Moments that Define Us**

_First Kiss_

A couple months into tutoring with Oliver and my transfiguration marks have gotten up to high E, McGonagall thinks I should be getting an O if I keep my work habit up. Every Tuesday and Thursday after Quidditch practice we meet in the library or at the common room.

He helps me with transfiguration, and I have begun staying up late with him to work on quidditch tactics. I just love being around him, he's terribly nice to me, though it must be awful for him to be seen with a fourth year. We've become good friends, and I feel as if something has changed between us.

There's been a shift in the way we behave when around each other, we've relaxed and I know for sure that we're enjoying each others company.

I spend so much time with Oliver now. Merlin it's wonderful!

And tonight, as we finish up our work in the library and hurry up to the portrait hole a comfortable silence looms over us, something I've gotten quite used to over the last few weeks.

When we climb through the portrait hole the common room is empty save a dwindling fire.

I whisper a quiet goodbye as always and turn to make my way towards the girls stair case when his hand wraps around my wrist.

I turn to face him, and see that his face has adopted a serious expression.

I look into his eyes, longing for him to do something. To prove that I hadn't imagined everything that's been going on between us.

A slight shock pulses up my arms, and I glance down, startled to see that his hands are cupping mine. He's so much bigger than me, I have to tilt my chin up in order to maintain eye contact. Of course, I do this because I'd quite like to look into his eyes, the colour of melted dark chocolate, for the rest of eternity.

He takes a step closer to me, and I take a hesitant step backwards, right into a wall, of course. I don't feel cornered though, Oliver knows perfectly well that I want this as much as he does.

I bid my erratic heartbeat to slow down, it's so loud in my ears that I'm sure he can hear it too.

His lips are literally a breath away from my own as he dips his head down to wards mine, and his breaths tease me, tempting me to lean forward and capture his mouth in my own.

"Katie," He whispers his voice smoldered in longing.

"Yes?" I answer while resisting the magnetic pull that insists on our lips meeting.

"Is this right?" He's hesitant, I mirror his feelings exactly.

His hands have moved mine to my side, against the wall, and he's leaning so much closer towards me, our lips are so close.

"I don't know..." I admit.

We maintain eye contact, questioning each others restraint, wondering who will make the first move.

XX

I've never been very patient, so I quickly find myself leaning forward ever so slightly, closing the minute space between us.

Upon the electricity of our lips meeting, I find myself using the wall for support, my legs have, honest to merlin, turned to jelly.

His hands against my hips keep me steady and I have wrapped mine around his neck in order to keep him this close. I need him to be this close.

He smiles against my lips, our chaste kiss filling me with the longing for much more. But, before I have time to register the millions of feelings rushing through my body, he pulls away.

It is evident to both of us now that something that feels this good, couldn't be anything but right. This is right, we're meant to be this way.

He's trying to keep his face calm, just like I am, but our masked smiles are books laid out for the other to read.

I attempt to keep the smile pulling at the corner of my mouth in check in check as he turns away with a small wave, making his way to the guys stairs.

Watching his retreating figure I absently finger my lips, still reeling from the feeling of his against them.

This was our first kiss, but hopefully, there are many more to come.

* * *

I feel kind of the same as Katie and Oliver do here with their ship.  
I absolutely love Katie/Oliver once they're adults and the age thing isn't an issue, but 14 and 17? Katie's a bit too LG for my liking.

Anyways, did this meet your kiss/fluff scene expectations?  
I hope so!

Only two chapters left... can you guess the subjects?

oh...And REVIEW PLEASE!!!


	6. Love

**_A note about the rating:_** Hi! So, I'm keeping the rating "T" for now, but beware while reading this chapter. I really don't know if it's too mature or not. If you think that the one particular scene (oohhh...) gets too explicit, can you please tell me so that I can up the rating to "M". Thanks, and enjoy the chapter. **:)**

**The Moments That Define Us**

_First Love_

Tears of joy stream down my face, and I wear an expression that is mirrored by every over member of our team. Hugging and crying and laughing and screaming we fly in a group towards the pitch, the euphoria of having finally won the House Cup welling in our hearts.

Harry grasps the snitch above us all, proving the end of this epic game, and merlin! We won, we finally won!

As we all land on the pitch, high-fiving and hugging, unwilling to let go, we hear the cheer of the crowd. A tidal wave of red crashes upon us, the sound of their joy is deafening. Oliver leads the team straight to Dumbledore, who hands over the great silver trophy.

All of the Gryffindor's stare at it in awe, as Oliver raises it above his head. His face is red, and his smile seems to split it in half. I've never seen him so happy, and it makes me proud to see him up there.

All this time, the crowd pushes our team together, all itching to get to touch the cup, the quidditch house cup, in Gryffindor's possession once again. Oliver holds the trophy high, and kisses it. The crowd roars some more, and I notice that the gleam in his eyes isn't unlike that which I see when he appraises me.

After shaking the cup over his head with glory, he hands the cup to Harry, who is immediately lifted off of the ground by the twins and carried towards the castle. Chants of "Gryffindor" fill the air, as the crowd follows, nobody in Gryffindor will sleep tonight, because the celebration party with last until dawn.

I feel somebody grab my hand, and look up to see Oliver grinning down at me. He squeezes it slightly, because nobody can be heard over this noise, and we get pulled with the current of Gryffindor's, ecstasy filling our hearts.

Once in the Common Room, the party commences. Harry leaves the teams immediately to seek his friends, then Fred and George disappear in search of drinks and food. Angelina, Alicia, Oliver, and I talk with Lee Jordan about Malfoy's terrible foul on Harry, and are interrupted multiple times by the hundreds of overjoyed Gryffindor's that insist on congratulating us. The Weird Sisters play from some unknown speakers, and Percy can be heard above the crowd telling the younger kids to stop jumping on sofas.

Half an hour into the party, which has now developed a small dance floor and has conjured snitches flying over the party, Fred and George return, baskets overflowing with food and drinks levitating at their sides.

"We have food!" Yells George above the music and chatter.

"And drinks!" Adds Fred. The Baskets drop onto a coffee table, and people gather around them to see what's available. Fred grabs two bottles of something that I haven't seen before and heads in our direction.

Handing a bottle to Angelina he declares "Only the finest firewhiskey for you, my dear."

"Why thank you," Angelina giggles, graciously receiving the open bottle from Fred and taking a generous swig.

"Only for the winning scorer." Fred says seriously, draping an arm around Angelina's waist. She leans into him, smiling impishly in Alicia's direction. Unfortunately, Alicia was already chatting with George, a firewhiskey in hand, so she doesn't notice. I feel Oliver's arm around my waist tighten a bit, and I look up at him. He leans down, and whispers into my ear, his breath tickling my skin.

"I'll get us some butterbeer, and we can go somewhere else. Okay?"

I nod, grab his hand, and we weave through to crowd towards the drinks table.

Oliver grabs one bottle, telling me we can share, and as an afterthought grabs a large cookie, from an almost empty basket. Then we proceed to the grounds.

***

The sun is low on the horizon, creeping towards the hills that surround this great castle and I lay my head against Oliver's chest with his arms roped around my waist. The cookie has been reduced to nothing and the bottle of butterbeer lies empty on it's side. I feel Oliver silently kiss the top of my head and sigh softly.

"You played well Kates." He tells me for the hundredth time today.

"You did too, dearest captain." I respond, identical to all my other answers.

"Honestly, your goals were amazing," he insists.

"As were your stops." I reply calmly.

"Ms. Bell, just take a compliment will you?" he demands, a smile discernible from his tone.

I move swiftly, removing his strong arms from my waist, slipping away from him, and then turning around to sit my legs folded under me, facing him directly.

I eye him, absorbing his face, his body, our situation in these beautiful surroundings. His neck is arched slightly, leaning his head against the birch tree by the dark lake. His eyes are closed and his arms have fallen limply by his side. His dark brown hair remains windswept from the game, and his crimson tee-shirt clings slightly to his muscled chest, Gryffindor pride blatantly displayed.

"Mr. Wood," I say, tugging playfully at the hem of his denims. He looks towards me, the fervor in his eyes as they look me up and down, reminding me exactly of the moment when he held the house cup. I feel slightly self conscious in my orange, v-necked, relatively short, summer dress, but I return his gaze boldly.

"Yes, Ms. Bell?" he answers, a smile playing at his full lips.

"Telling me that my goals were amazing is no compliment, it's a fact." I tell him smugly.

"What would a compliment be then?" He asks, eyebrows arched questioningly.

"I can't tell you..." I tease.

"Well, you are beautiful." He tells me, "but that's a well known fact as well."

I blush profusely, unable to maintain eye contact, so I play with the hem of his denims again.

He leans towards me, lifting up my chin, so that we are a breath apart. My breaths are hesitant, and my heart is hammering against my chest. His lips graze my own ever so slightly, sending my nerve endings into overdrive. Then, as I feel myself leaning towards him to deepen the kiss he withdraws, shaking ever so slightly, as though it was nearly impossible to pull away.

"The feeling of your lips against my own blows my mind," he continues musing, rubbing his thumb absently over his bottom lip, "but that's a fact too..."

He trails off, leaving us in a sexual tension filled silence. He's looking at me, a hint of a smile on his face, and every bone in my body is urging me to tackle him, defeat him with kisses. All I want now is a good snog, and the electric air that surrounds us only fuels this need.

Without my minds permission, my body pulls me towards him. My knees pad forwards along the grass, until I'm straddling him. I look down at him, an incontrollable smile flitting across my face, and he looks up, his eyes filled with something that can only be described as lust.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, and bend down so that our lips are level.

They brush ever so slightly, as I softly tell him, "no need for compliment's then..."

And then he leans forwards, and all of the air around us seems to be upgraded to high voltage because he's wrapping his arms around my waist and I'm running mine through his already messy hair. And he puts pressure on my mouth, and it feels as if a burning flame has enveloped me in a heated world where we are the only people alive.

His warm hands travel down my back and back up again, tracing some unknown pattern of heat and passion that runs through my body, and one of his hands goes lower, lower than he has ever dared to before, fingering the hem of my dress slightly, as if pondering different actions.

Meanwhile, my hands hold his head as close to mine as possible, and his lips are open, and we we breathe the same breaths, and his tongue is in my mouth, and it elicits a deep moan from the back of my throat, to which he shudders slightly.

So I push back, leaning into him deeper, his back pushing against the tree, arching so that our bodies can be closer, and then we're on the ground, and I'm lying directly over him, using my arms to keep me up as we continue kissing with more fervor than ever.

And he's leaning over me, his hands dangerously close to a place that I'm not ready to consider yet, but our tongues are still dancing together, a deep sultry samba. Behind us, the sun is setting and everything feels perfect, and my hands have found his hair again, and I draw him as close to me as possible, though it isn't near close enough. Still, he groans slightly, which encourages me even more.

At my side, one of his forearms props him up and he begins to trail kisses towards my jaw, leaving small fires at every spot his lips touch. Reaching my collar bone he proceeds down my neckline, and I'm reminded that I'm dating a seventeen year old, where stuff like this is normal.

But, Merlin! I want him so bad, and the feeling of his other hand inching up my thigh sets off no warning signs, I just feel lust take over my body, and I pull him closer still.

His lips reach the top of my right breast, and my body shakes from the pleasure of the feeling of his lips against my body, because it feels so right. The strap of my dress has fallen off of my shoulder revealing a bra strap and his hand is now under the hem of my dress, still climbing slowly and steadily to it's destination.

"Oliver..." I moan slightly, my eyelashes fluttering, and I feel his passion filled eyes look up at me.

Suddenly his hand is out from under my dress, and his lips are nowhere near my body, he pulls away instantaneously, fear replacing the lust in his eyes. He is on his feet, straightening out his shirt and jeans, and attempting to flatten his well mused hair.

I stand up too, pulling back up my strap, and pulling down the hem of my dress self-consciously.

I'm beginning to realize what I was about to do there. It shocks me a bit, I'm only fifteen after all, and barely so.

Oliver is staggering towards me, hands held out and he takes both of mine in his.

Looking into my eyes he tells me, "I'm so sorry Katie. Merlin! What have I done?!"

He looks terribly troubled, and grief is written all over his face.

"Nothing, Oliver. It's okay, you haven't done anything." I whisper.

I remove my hands from his, and stroke his cheek consolingly, trying to figure out what I've done wrong.

He grabs my hand away from his face, his eyes betraying the most uncontrollable pain. He cups both of my hands in his own and brings them up to his face, where sorrow is still etched clearly.

"I can't believe I let myself do this..." He says, mostly to himself, so I don't say anything.

"I mean, you're only bloody fifteen!!" He whispers harshly, despair clear as ever.

"Oliver, it wasn't your fault. It takes two-"

"I almost let it happen," he interrupts me, "I didn't have control over myself."

I look desperately into his eyes trying to convey understanding.

"I can't keep myself in check around you Katie! It's like a child in Zonko's for the first time, I just want..." He trails off, and his eyes find some blade of grass to focus on, as he is too ashamed to look at me in the eye.

I can't think of anything to say so I wrap my arms around his neck, kiss him softly on the side of his jaw, and then bury my head into his shoulder, holding him tightly. Hesitantly, he wraps his arms around my waist, staying safely in the middle, and squeezes tightly.

"Do you still want to be my girlfriend?" He asks hesitantly.

"Of course," I answer swiftly, leaving him no time to doubt.

We stand there in silence, until I withdraw slightly, and look up into his dark eyes, now rid of desperate emotions.

"Ollie?" I ask quietly.

He pulls away from me and pulls me down to sit beside him, facing the sunset, his arm securely around my waist.

"Yes?" He asks.

I don't answer, leaning into his shoulder, having lost all will to speak.

He doesn't prompt me, and stays silent as well. It's a comfortable silence, that allows the air drifting between us to be the only connection we need.

***

And when the light is almost gone, and the a cool breeze starts enveloping my bare legs, we get up to walk back to the entrance of the castle.

On the final flight of stairs, I pause, remembering suddenly what I had wanted to say.

He looks back at me, a torch behind him leaving a pleasant glow on his tan face.

"I love you." I whisper

I watch his face in silence as he registers what I've said. Shock, confusion, worry, and then a warm smile that grows larger by the second.

I smile back hopefully. And he leans down to give me a chaste kiss on the lips, not at all dissimilar to our first kiss.

"I love you too." he murmurs on my lips, before embracing me with his strong arms.

We stand there for a minute, both processing what we had said, and what it meant.

I don't know what comes next in our relationship, but if love overcomes everything, I'll be fine.

After all these years, Oliver Wood was my first love.

* * *

sappy. sappy. sappy.  
Merlin, I really poured it on this time.  
Anyways, you all got quite a long chapter here, anything you wish to comment on?  
Well, in addition to what my rating should be...

PLEASE DO REVIEW!

and one chapter left...


	7. Loss

**The Moments That Define Us**

_Loss_

"Wood, Oliver" Professor McGonagall calls from the top of the podium, that overlooks the rows of seats placed Hogwarts' front lawn.

Oliver gets up from his seat, among the graduates, calmly, and glances back to where I sit in the crowd. I send him a reassuring smile, and he returns it warmly. Then, he stands on top of the podium, his graduation robes billowing slightly in the breeze. McGonagall is positioned in front of him, with his graduation parchment in her hands. She's beaming at him, and it is well known that he was one of her favorite students this year. With great pleasure, McGonagall hands over the parchment to Oliver, and holds out her hand to shake his.

"Congratulations Mr. Wood" she tells him, and her voice trembles slightly.I notice that her lower lip is quivering, and eyes are welling.

Other graduates look around, astonished to see any emotion elicited from the stern professor, and I feel the exact same way.

After they shake hands, there is an awkward silence, where the two of them maintain eye contact.

Then I hear Oliver mutter something about the quidditch cup, and McGonagall's usually rigid face breaks into a wide smile. She holds her arms out, and she and Oliver both step forward pulling each other in a tight embrace. I hear a couple students around me chuckle, but they don't understand how much these two mean to each other.

It took three years of stressful labour for Gryffindor to finally possess the house cup, and both Oliver and the professor had sacrificed so much in order to finally achieve this. It was a joint effort, and now it is likely that they will never see each other again. Oliver is getting on a train this afternoon, and he will be leaving Hogwarts for good. He will be playing as a reserve goalie on a professional quidditch team, and he somewhat owes this to our Head of House.

She had put in so much dedication into the team, and in return Oliver had trained us day-in and day-out in order to win the trophy that will stand proudly in her office for the next year. Needless to say, they had both helped the other a lot throughout the years, and this had built a complex teacher-student relationship. One that barely I understood.

McGonagall pulls away first, her eyes shining, and chuckles as she mentions something about nearly killing Harry in order to win the cup. Oliver looks out into the stands and catches my eye, smiling ironically. I laugh softly, because I know all too well how much Oliver was willing to sacrifice for the cup. Risking Harry's life was hardly a threat compared to never winning the house cup as Captain.

Next, Oliver moves to Dumbledore, and shakes his hand. With hushed "_thank you's_" he finally leaves the stage, and Snape is called up to give out graduation parchments to the Slytherin students. I slouch in my chair at this point, completely uninterested in which Slytherins managed to do well enough to get some NEWT's.

Just as I'm dozing off in the summer heat, I feel a tap on my should. I turn around, my eyes half open, but when they fix on his dark brown eyes, I wake immediately.

He holds his hand out to me an I eagerly grab it, gratified by his escape plan. As we're leaving, I glance back towards the podium, Dumbledore stands just behind Snape, as he did with McGonagall, and I catch his eye for a millisecond. I cringe slightly, fearing he may reprimand us for leaving, but to my surprise, he winks at me, then turns to shake a large Slytherin guy's hand.

I turn back to Oliver, leaning into him and giggling at our headmaster's actions. Oliver squeezes my hand in response and pulls me towards the shade of the castle walls, where we will be unseen by the graduating crowd.

As soon as we are out of view Oliver turns around, facing me, and immediately twines his arms around my waist. I wrap my own around his neck and we fall into an embrace. I hold him as tightly as I can, as if that will reverse the fact that he will never be coming back to the school, that we'll be apart for months at a time.

The fact is that Oliver is going to be a quidditch player, a young, attractive, male quidditch player. I can't help but be worried that he'll forget about his fifteen year old girlfriend back at school, when tons of mature and sexy women will be throwing themselves on him at every chance they get.

So, my embrace is possessional, and I feel that Oliver's is that way as well. He doesn't want to leave me alone at this school either, as if he fears that I might discover some other guy here. I won't, and I hug him even tighter in hope that this might translate to him.

After a couple minutes Oliver pulls back, and looks down at me, a bright smile adorning his face. I smile back, and am about to ask him why he's so happy when he bends down and captures my lips in a kiss. It is strong, with a passion that he often holds back when with me, for he fears I'm too young. But here, the day before we will be separated for our first extended period of time since we started dating, I feel no restraint within him. His hands run feverishly up and down my back, and I feel myself backing into the wall of the castle for support. Once I am flat against the wall, the distance between us closes swiftly. I immediately push back, pressing my body against his, all the while keeping my lips attached to his, eager to deepen our kiss. My hands tangle in his hair, bringing his face even closer to mine, and I breathe deeply, trying to ingrain every feeling from our kiss into my mind, to store away for the months I will spend without him.

Oliver's trails his kisses away from my lips, leaving a feeling of burning at every place his lips brush my skin. My jaw, my neck, my collar bone, all possess ignited fires that he has bestowed.

"Oliver" I breathe, panting slightly, as his hands make their way under my shirt.

He stops for a moment, and one look into his eyes tells me that he's calculating all of his actions.

"Oliver." I repeat firmly, and he finally registers my gaze.

"Yes?" He asks, bringing his lips down to brush against my own, which sends shivers up my spine.

"I'm going to miss you." I whisper, allowing a tear to escape my quickly welling eyes.

"Oh Kates, I'm going to miss you too." He tells me keeping his voice steady, he is betrayed when it cracks at the end of his sentence.

"Of course you will..." I trail off, untangling my hands from his hair. I brush some stray hair from off of his face, and stroke his jaw with my hands. My fingertips feel the roughness of his recent stubble, and then I run them down the sides of his arms, prying his hands off of my waist. I keep them in my own as I look up at him.

I feel more tears swelling behind my eyes, and as they spill out, I quickly brush them aside. After all, I don't want to seem like an emotional wreck to him.

"What's wrong?" He asks me.

Suddenly I feel a swell of rage in the pit of my stomach, spreading like wild fire through my limbs, my lips start moving, and before I've realized what's happening I'm raising my voice at him.

"Do you honestly NOT know what's wrong Oliver?" I start, scathingly. "I mean, you're going off to play professional quidditch! There are going to be women throwing themselves at you left and right! OF COURSE there's something wrong!" I exclaim, then glance around quickly to see if anybody has noticed.

Oliver is as alarmed by my outburst as I am. I hadn't meant to put my words that way, I don't want to be the jealous girlfriend. I want to support him, but I can't help that those women will be doing anything to get into bed with him, and how is he supposed to resist them?

"What are you trying to tell me, Bell?" He asks, raising his eyebrows as if daring me to continue, but I never get the chance.

Quickly, he drops his voice to a low whisper, and harshly continues "You think that I'm not worried about all the guys at Hogwarts who are pining after you? Do you think that I don't see them eyeing you in the hallways, whispering about how I'm going to be gone next year. How you'll be free bait?!!"

We are still holding hands and his grasp on mine is becoming unbearable, he is squeezing with all his might, having apparently forgotten that my hands are still there. I cry out in pain as he digs his nails into my palm upon his last word, and pull my hands away from him. There are nail marks indented into my skin.

"I-..I- Well, you-" I stutter trying to come up with a control of my heavy breathing I continue, "and you think that I would actually want to go off with any of them? I can't believe you! I bet you can't wait to go off with one of those fan girls, to go all the way, which you could never do with me."

His eyes widen in horror and he takes a step backwards, which eggs me on even more.

"Did you think I didn't know that you were restraining yourself around me? You were unwilling to take it a step farther, worried you would hurt me! Well, once your gone, you won't have any problems will you? You'll be free to shag whichever slag you want to!" Once the words are out of my mouth I can't take them back.

I've told Oliver my worst fear, and now we're looking at each other wide eyed, not knowing how we can handle the situation.

"Is that your issue?" Oliver asks, his voice scarily level and calm.

I nod, it's hardly visible, but my eyes tell him the truth either way.

"Well, then maybe it's best we don't stay together." Oliver states, taking another step backwards.

My breath catches in my throat and I sink to the ground immediately, his suggestion is a crushing blow that has wounded me somewhere that is not visible to the human eye.

Oliver is standing over me, his eyebrows furrowed with concern, but his eyes still hard from my previous claims.

"Bell?" he asks, his voice as hard as his gaze.

I struggle to find the right words; to disagree, and tell him that I still want him, and I would never betray him, and I knew he would never betray me.

Instead I find myself nodding, and I'm shocked by my actions.

Oliver turns around and walks away slowly. I want to cry out to him, to call him back to me, and have his arms around my waist.

I want to take back everything I just said, because it felt so right to be with him, and him walking away, his figure slouched and frowning face, isn't right at all.

I stay on the ground, head in my hands, licking salty tears from my lips as I mull over what has just happened.

Our strong, stable relationship has sunk as unexpectedly as it had sailed, and I think I know the reason why.

His age, my age, they made such a difference in our relationship. I pound my fists into the earth, sobbing even harder, wishing that I was older, and more capable of fulfilling what he wanted in a girlfriend. If I was graduating too, then there wouldn't be a problem, things would have gone farther a long time ago, and Oliver would have been content with me, with us.

I shudder, and try to calm my breathing. I understand that our breakup is my fault, and I'm devastated for it, but it's also out of my power. As a couple we weren't going to work out, we weren't ready for what was going to be thrown at us. I am only at the end of my fourth year, and I am unbelievably naïve. I have so much to learn, and Oliver does too.

Coming to this realization, I sigh and push myself up, having resolved to find Oliver and try to keep a friendship between us. I walk slowly towards the ceremony, where the graduates will soon be making their way onto the Hogwarts Express for their very last time.

I need to say goodbye to Oliver before he leaves, to assure him that I still love him, despite our argument, and that I want to stay in contact. I feel that there may still be hope for the future, so I quicken my step, eager to reach him again.

As soon as I round the corner I know something is wrong, the seats around the stage are completely empty, and I see a crowd of people headed down the path that leads to the train station. It's already time for the graduates to go home, so I have to hurry to talk to Oliver before he leaves.

I'm running at a moderate pace, and soon I catch up to the group. I weave my way through the crowd of parents and graduates, towards the front where I'm sure that I'll find Oliver. Immediately, I spot his slumped shoulders a good distance in front of the rest of the crowd. I notice that we are quickly approaching the train station, so I speed up. When I finally reach Oliver, I'm panting slightly. He looks back, sees me, and arches his eyebrows sceptically before turning away again. I'm slightly put out by his reaction, but fall into pace with him all the same.

"Oliver?" I ask timidly

"Bell," he responds, his voice as hard as before.

"I agree, we need some time apart..." I tell him shakily, "but, I don't want to end our relationship on such awful terms."

"It wasn't my idea in the first place," he replies, keeping his gaze on the platform.

"Well...um. I -But.." I stutter, not knowing what to say.

"But, maybe your right," he continues, "I mean, we're young, and maybe we moved forwards too fast. I think I might need a break, and you said you need one too. Perhaps we need to meet new people, to mingle a bit."

I sigh, because I don't want a break at all, but this really does seem best. We've arrived on the platform now, and Oliver turns to me.

"But, I'll always care for you Katie". He tells me earnestly, and tucks a lock of hair behind my right ear.

I nod, and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. He responds by wrapping his around my waist and I bury my face in his shoulder for one last time.

This hug is just as warm as the one we'd had minutes ago, but it's so much different. It has a melancholy feeling, and the loss of a loved one swells in my heart.

Others are quickly approaching us, and graduates are boarding the train, waving goodbye to their parents, and taking the final trip home. I release my tight grip on Oliver and step back so I can see him clearly.

"I'm going to miss you". I tell him, as tears start rolling down my face once more.

"I miss you already". Oliver replies.

"I love you," I manage to whisper, fearing his response

"I love you too," He whispers back, and I know it's my time to leave.

I walk back up the castle, wiping the tears from my eyes.

I turn back to wave goodbye to Oliver one last time, but he's no longer focused on me.

He's talking to a Hufflepuff chaser, who's tall and blonde, and from what I know of her, very nice. They are both smiling, and as they arrive at the train he steps aside to allow her onto the train first. I watch her blush as she takes his hand for the help up, and feel my heart crush a little.

He's moved on already.

Plus, she's the type of girl that Oliver is meant to be with at the moment, but all I can think is, as he flirts with her for the rest of the train ride, I'll be in my dormitory with nothing but a box of tissues. Another tear rolls down my cheek.

I watch the train leave the station, disappearing from my sight, just like I had disappeared from Oliver's mind.

Again, I have to remind myself that I was the one who brought this separation on. I can already acknowledge that I miss Oliver so much, and I feel lonely without him by my side.

It scares me to think that he may never stand beside me again.

I walk up to the castle focusing on my steps, to take my mind off of the last image I have of him.

I realize that I now know the feeling of having a broken heart, but for some irrational reason, my heart feels as if it it will mend one day.

Oliver was my first love, and he always will be, but today I've lost him, and I can't help but wonder if he'll ever come back.

* * *

First of all I'm sorry for my complete inability to update. I've been working on an entry for a writing contest, and have been traveling in Europe, so that's taken up a bit of my time...

Anyways, this is my last chapter. It's quite melancholy, and I have a few strings that I want to tie up, so I'm going to be writing an Epilogue soon, which will take place after Katie leaves Hogwarts and... Well, you know what's happening at that time. So this isn't the last chapter. Yay?

Oh! I'm sorry if it took a while to get to the Katie/Oliver stuff, I just had the urge to put in a little Oliver and McGonagall friendship (because I'm obviously not shipping them!). I just see them as being characters who got along... and it may have been a bit out of the blue in this chapter, but it's just leading into the K/O action, so don't kill me. =P

I don't know how adept I am at writing angst and irrational thinking, so please give me **feedback** on that.

**Thank yo****u** to everyone who has reviewed or favorited or story alerted so far. It **means so much** to me.

And I leave you with a **PLEASE reivew, or a second option; What did you guys think of the HBP movie?!!**


	8. Epilogue

**A/N: **Hello my lovely readers, I'm terribly sorry for the late update. School just started, and you know that original story that I was working on? Well, it has been **_PUBLISHED_** (link on my profile), but it's here and I hope you all enjoy the epilogue of my story.

**The Moments That Define Us**

_Epilogue_

I've seen him once tonight, only once, and I'll never forgive myself if he dies, because I didn't say a word. We didn't even exchange a glance. I watched Oliver from across the Room of Requirement. As I chatted with Alicia and Angelina about the fight that was about to take place, he spoke with some aurors, and if he turned my way, I averted my eyes immediately, cringing as I imagined speaking to him again.

All I can remember is him and that blond Hufflepuff, chatting as he left me for the first time, him leaving me without a single glance back. He had no regrets.

How I cried myself to sleep the following nights, unable to forget the pain in his eyes as we said goodbye, and knowing that I was the reason for it.

Now, I'm fighting for my life against the cruelest wizards you could imagine, and those events seem so inconsequential. My wounds had healed long ago, and I had moved on, but it only took being in the same room with him for them to open again. I stun a death eater as I imagine him fighting on the grounds, him being pierced with the killing curse, and falling to the ground, dead. But, I can't focus on that now, I have to dodge the killing curse that is flying towards my chest, and send back a spell of my own, to save my life.

I can't worry about him now, but I can't help it.

He could be dead.

The thought floods my mind with fear, and I feel a rush of adrenaline course through my veins.

I shout a final "Stupefy" and leave the death eater that I'm dueling on the ground and immobile. I shudder as I recognize him as a Slytherin just a couple of years older than me, and I run down the corridor to help Angelina battle another one of You-Know-Who's supporters.

Together we manage to send this death eater flying across the hall, and knock his head against the stone wall, he crumples to the ground, unconscious, and Angelina and I rush towards the stairs that lead to the Entrance Hall, where the largest battle is raging.

"Where's Alicia?" I breathe as we sprint by the history of magic classroom.

"Helping professor Sprout with the Mandrakes, she- PROTEGO," Angelina answers, but is cut off when Marcus Flint steps in our way. He sneers at us, and sends my blood boiling.

"Where your little Captain now?" He taunts, remembering our quidditch rivalry from so long ago.

I duck to avoid his killing curse and reply, "fighting for the good side."

"Well, you mustn't have seen his body then," Flint remarks with a slash of his wand.

Angelina lets out a scream as a gash appears in her left arm, bleeding fiercely.

I almost don't notice, because a cold fear has taken a hold of me, I can barely muster up the stunning charm to hold Flint off before the cold voice of You-Know-Who penetrates the walls of the castle again.

His words are gibberish to me. All I can think about is Oliver and how he could be dead right now. Flint said that he was dead, not that I believe Flint, it's just that he could be dead.

I never even said goodbye.

***

I help Angelina get to the infirmary as soon as the death eaters retreat. She's in a lot of pain, and losing blood quickly. Mme. Pomfrey ushers her over to a bed immediately fussing over her. I stay with Angelina until she's healed, and then we part. She's searching for Fred, and I'm after Oliver, whether he be dead or alive. Of course, he needs to be alive, because I must tell him how I feel, just in case something happens. I can't live without him knowing.

I still love him, I never forgot about him, and I will never truly get over him. I've grown up, and met other people, but it's never been the same, and I need him more now then I ever have in my life. I've realized all this just now, and it may be too late.

There are bodies on the ground, a couple dozen dead wizards and witches. I gasp as I see my old DADA teacher, professor Lupin, among them. If a wizard as skilled as him could be killed, anybody could be, Oliver included. My eyes scan desperately over every body, and I almost miss the crowd of redheads, sobbing quietly into each others robes. My heart stops for a moment, and I feel the urge to go over to them, to find out which Weasley has been hit, but a glimpse of messy brown hair and the sound of a deep scottish brogue stops me in my tracks.

I turn around and see Oliver walking in carrying the body of a young blond boy, he looks no older than 16, and must have snuck in without his head of house knowing. I keep my eyes on Oliver as he places the boy tenderly down among the other diseased fighters, and finally he looks up, scanning the Great Hall with dark eyes. He has bruises and cuts all over his body, and his denims are covered in dry blood. From the multiple that cover his body, I can only deduce that he has clumsily healed himself, saving the infirmary for people who are more seriously injured.

Finally our eyes meet, and I feel a warm rush flood over me. He smiles at me, and I find myself running towards him with all my might, to make sure that he's really there, that he's not my imagination.

My arms wrap tightly around his neck as soon as I reach him, and I bury my head in his shoulder. I don't know whether to cry or laugh, because he's alive, and he's holding me in his arms once more. I feel so safe, despite the fact that we are in the middle of one of the biggest wizarding wars of all time.

"I've missed you so much," I tell him sincerely, never withdrawing from our embrace.

"I've missed you more," he answers, his voice as tender as I remember it.

"The last time I saw you I was fifteen," I note.

"The last time I saw you you were seventeen," he replies. This time I pull back, and study his eyes carefully.

"I visited you at St. Mungo's after you were cursed by the necklace," he elaborates.

"Your name was never in the guestbook," I retort, confused.

"Well, I figured you might still be angry with me for not keeping in contact, so I didn't sign," he replies.

"Oh," I struggle for something else to say, but my heart is alight, he visited me when I was ill. He may still have feelings for me.

"It's Fred," he suddenly says, and I'm puzzled for a moment before it dawns on me.

"I...but, he-" I stutter, unable to form a sentence.

Oliver just pulls me into another hug, his warm arms wrapping around my own.

This time I feel tears spilling from my eyes, and soaking into his ripped shirt. The danger of this battle is finally sinking, and I have this terrible feeling that I have one hour left where Oliver and I will be together.

"Thank you," I finally say.

"For what?" he murmurs, placing a kiss atop my head.

"For still caring, even when I was terrible to you."

"I've always cared, you know that."

"I've always cared too."

I finally gather the courage to look him straight into the eye, and I see a light in there that I've missed for so many years.

"I know."

Then, he leans down slightly, his eyes tentatively asking me thousands of questions each time he blinks, and finally his eyes flutter closed, and I close the gap. Our lips press against each other for a couple seconds, and I savour the moist warmth and comfort of being held by him again. I feel more safe than I have since that fateful june day, and when we pull apart, the light in his eyes has exploded into a burning fire.

"What's going to happen?" I ask, tentatively.

"We're going to fight 'till the death, being the true Gryffindor's that we are."

"and?"

"We'll survive, I'm sure of it."

And I want to believe him, I want to so so much. I want to believe Oliver Wood now, more than I have in my entire life, more than when he first confessed that he loved me. Still, I can't help but question.

"What if we don't?"

He sighs, and a sad look overcomes his face. "Then, we'll die fighting for what we believe in, and Katie?"

"Yes?"

"I don't know about you, but if I die tonight, I don't want to leave without telling you something that I've wanted to tell you since you were fifteen."

"and?" Hope engulfs this small word, because I'm almost positive that he feels the same as me.

"It was right for us to split up, but it was wrong to end our friendship. I still love you, and when we survive the war... I think we'll be ready again," he articulates slowly.

"I was ready the moment you left." I rush, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and hugging myself to him as tightly as possible.

Finally I whisper, "I love you too."

As soon as I mutter those crucial words, the loud and terrifying voice of You-Know-Who invades the castle again. But, there's a difference. This time, I'm in Oliver's arms.

I feel safe, I am loved, and most of all, I have hope.

* * *

**LA FIN!**

This is my first finished multi-chapter fic, and I must say that I'm quite proud of it.

I'm still on the works for my second series of shorts, about James and Lily, but finishing this quick 8 chapters story has given me hope and proof that I'm slightly capable.

Anyways the last line was inspired by this excellent lyric from an Owl City song called "Tidal Wave". It goes like this, "I don't need a telescope to see that there's hope, and that makes me feel brave"

Like the last chapter this was bitter sweet, but I like it like this. I'm pretty sure that both Katie and Oliver survive the war, but I see this happening between them as they face this huge force, that at times, seems unbeatable.

Love inspires hope. For them at least. =)

**PLEASE REVIEW** to tell me what you think, even if you haven't reviewed for the other chapters, I'd love to hear your overall impression of my story. There are 20 people who have this story alerted, and I don't think I've heard the opinion of half of them! I **REALLY **want to know what you guys think, just take two seconds to tell me please.

**_THANKS SO MUCH_**

-Nath


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